


Clean

by cytheriafalas



Series: Cleaned and Healed [1]
Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-02
Updated: 2015-03-02
Packaged: 2018-03-15 22:40:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3464708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cytheriafalas/pseuds/cytheriafalas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From a prompt on my tumblr asking for Harry/Merlin whump. So... that's what this is. There isn't graphic violence on screen, but there is violence off-screen, and you see the effects of it.</p><p>Also, I'm so very American and I'm so very sorry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Clean

He wasn’t even supposed to be in the field. He wasn’t supposed to be anywhere but safe in HQ, and if Harry hadn’t screwed up and gotten shot in the head, he would have been around to have helped Roxy and Eggsy stop Valentine, and Merlin would have been exactly where he was supposed to be. Instead Harry watched the feed on Eggsy’s glasses as the seven of their dozen agents infiltrated—okay, not infiltrated, because the sheer number of explosions and bullets ruled out stealth—the building.

Harry remained alone running surveillance in the plane, pretending that the orders he was giving were necessary with that many agents working together. Not that he’d given a single order thus far. In truth, with Merlin already missing and no clue as to his condition, they couldn’t risk losing both Merlin and Arthur at once. So he sat back and watched his agents with quiet pride.

“Tristan, on your left.”

“Galahad, we need that room cleared.”

“Lancelot, break down that door.”

A hall, a door, another hall, and another door. Rapid-fire words overlapping, wooden doors cracking, muffled gunshots, bodies thudding, and then Lancelot’s heel shattering a door open.

“Everyone, glasses off. Arthur, turn off your feed,” Eggsy said, voice sharp, glasses focused on the ground. Harry could see the metal leg of a bed, a cement floor, and nothing else.

“Galahad—” Harry wasn’t sure what he was going to say, but Eggsy interrupted him.

“Turn the feed off and get in here.”

Kay met him at the front door and led him along the path of destruction. All of his agents, except Roxy and Eggsy, stood in the hallway, their backs to a single door at the end of it. It was as much of an honor guard as Harry had ever seen. He couldn’t walk into that room and see a body. He couldn’t.

His feet frozen beneath him, it took Roxy’s appearance at the door to spur him into motion. “Come on in, Arthur. We’re ready for you.”

He was cold. He knew he was breathing too fast, could feel his heart pounding. She’d said “we.” She and Eggsy? Had they cleaned Merlin’s body, or was he still breathing? Would he be breathing when Harry got into the room? Bracing himself for the worst and not daring to hope for anything less, he followed her through the first door into the short hallway. The third door, the one on the far left, was cracked open, a quiet voice sounding from within it. Harry quashed his thrill of hope. It was only Eggsy.

“We’re here,” Roxy announced.

Eggsy stepped out and held the door open for Harry to pass. “It’s bad,” he said quietly. “Know that.”

Harry couldn’t breathe, but somehow his feet managed to carry him between his two agents and through the door. Merlin lay beneath mismatched blankets, eyes closed, hands resting at his sides. The pillow beneath his head was stained with blood, the bruising on his face so extensive Harry almost didn’t recognize him. Biting back a sound of despair, Harry took a step forward.

“Harry?”

Crossing the remaining space in three quick steps, he dropped to his knees at the side of the bed. “Merlin?”

Merlin’s eyes cracked open and he managed a smile. One of his eyes was bloodshot, but he focused on Harry’s face without difficulty. “You look like somebody died.”

Harry reached for his hand, then hesitated. “Can I…?”

Merlin lifted his left hand and wiggled his fingers. “I think my right hand is broken, but so long as you don’t break this one yourself, we’ll be okay.”

His voice was so rough it hardly sounded like him. Up close, Harry could see blood mixed in with the bruising, blunt force trauma so severe the skin had split with it, his lip, his cheek, along his hairline. Harry latched on, bringing Merlin’s hand to his lips and kissing it gently.

“I thought I’d lost you.”

“Nonsense,” Merlin said, drawing in a breath that rattled. “It’s just a bit of bruising.”

Harry very much doubted that, but didn’t argue. He let one hand roam across Merlin’s warm skin. As much as he wanted to cup Merlin’s face and kiss him until the cold fear in his stomach faded, he held back.

“Let’s get you home,” he said instead. “Nymue has been complaining there hasn’t been much for her to do.”

Merlin let out a little huff of air that might have been a laugh, eyes fluttering as he fought to keep them open. Harry gave in and kissed the corner of his lips.

“Sleep, Merlin. When you wake up, we’ll be home.”

 

The bulleted list Nymue gave Harry was enough to make his hands shake with rage. The woman, younger even than their youngest recruit, but forged to strength in some kind of fire Harry couldn’t even imagine. She put her hand on his.

“This looks worse than it is. Many of the injuries are superficial. The bruising looks horrific, and it will get worse as he heals,” something in her voice implied knowledge of the yellow-and-brown mottled skin that was coming, “but he will heal. Several of his ribs are cracked, but none of them broke and none of them pierced a lung. He has early stages of bacterial pneumonia, but we’ve already started him on antibiotics. We’ve set his right hand and he won’t be able to use it soon. Likely, he will always have some pain from it, but he should regain its use in the end. When he’s stronger, we’ll do some surgery to repair the torn cartilage in his left knee. The break in his right shin is clean and it already shows signs of healing. His ankle is badly swollen, but as of now, it looks to be just a sprain. His neurological tests check out. His skull is undamaged and he hasn’t shown any sign of cranial swelling or bruising. He’s going to be fine.”

“Can I see him?”

Nymue nodded, holding her hand out in the direction of the door. “We washed most of him as part of our assessments, but his face is still pretty dirty. Under normal circumstances, we would have taken care of that as well, but I wanted to see if you wanted a chance first.”

Harry nodded, unable to speak around a sudden lump in his throat.

Nymue’s smile was kind and she squeezed his hand once more. “Go ahead. There’s warm water and cloths waiting for you. He’s on quite a few painkillers, so as long as you’re gentle, you shouldn’t hurt him.”

Asleep, Merlin looked too much like he shouldn’t have been able to survive the abuse. And as Harry hadn’t been allowed to be part of his debriefing, he didn’t even know what had happened to him. The reports would reach his desk eventually, unless Roxy pulled them. He wouldn’t put it past her.

Harry stood beside the bed and looked at Merlin for a few seconds, listened to him breathe, watched the flutter of his eyes in sleep. He shrugged out of his suit jacket and hung it on the back of a chair. Rolling up his sleeves, he took the first of the cloths and dipped it in the water.

Hating the sight of blood on Merlin’s face, he started on his forehead, avoiding the carefully bandaged cuts. With each stroke, more of his face appeared, skin lighter even where the bruising turned his skin purple and blue. Merlin’s hair was damp, washed by the nurses while they examined him for injuries.

“Hello.”

He’d been so intent on washing a particularly stubborn flake of dried blood from Merlin’s right temple that he hadn’t seen him open his eyes.

Harry smiled, running the back of one finger across the freshly-cleaned skin of Merlin’s temple. “Hello.”

Merlin lifted his good hand and touched the same spot on Harry’s face. “You look serious. Am I dying?”

“Hush,” Harry ordered, turning to dip the cloth back in the water. “Close your eyes.”

Without question, Merlin did as ordered, turning his head more fully toward Harry. As carefully as he could, Harry washed Merlin’s eyelids and cheeks. He went to dampen the cloth again, only to discover the entire cloth was already stained. Setting it down on the opposite side of the tray, he picked up a new one.

Merlin was watching him when he turned back again. “What’s wrong?”

Setting to work on Merlin’s jaw, Harry let out a bitter laugh. “I should have prevented this.”

A line appeared between Merlin’s eyebrows as he tried to understand. “How?”

“It’s my job to keep you safe.”

“You’re lucky I’m in this hospital bed,” Merlin began, and Harry thought it was some comment about how near he’d come to death, but then Merlin added, “otherwise I would kick you in the face. Your job is not to keep me safe. Your job is to protect England, and sometimes we lose people in that endeavor.”

Bending back to his task, they remained silent until Harry transitioned to his third cloth and began working on Merlin’s neck.

“Harry, look at me.” Unable as always to refuse Merlin anything, he glanced up. “Now kiss me.”

That was something he could do. Dropping the cloth to the floor, Harry took Merlin’s face in his hands and leaned in to kiss him, trying to find some balance between concern for Merlin’s battered body and his need to hold this man in his arms again.

It was Merlin who deepened the kiss, grabbing a fistful of the front of Harry’s shirt and pulling him down, sucking at Harry’s lower lip until he relented and let Merlin kiss him properly. His lips tasted of blood, but his grip was tight and alive and Harry nearly wept.

“You’re shaking,” Merlin observed when they finally pulled apart. “What’s wrong? Were you hurt?” Harry bent to pick up the cloth and set on top of the other two. Merlin’s fingers wrapped around Harry’s wrist. “Talk to me.”

“I love you,” he said. “I love you and I almost lost you.”

Harry dipped the fourth cloth into the water. He heard a soft grunt and spun around to see Merlin trying to sit up on the bed. He gave up after a few tries, unable to lift his damaged body with one arm, face creased in pain. “Come here, love. Sit beside me.”

He settled himself beside Merlin, running the cloth along the side of his throat. Merlin leaned into the touch, his eyes closing, head tipping back. He felt silent for a long time, his hand resting on Harry’s knee.

“I’m tired,” Merlin whispered.

Harry kissed his forehead, dipping the cloth into the water again. “Go to sleep, darling. I’ll be here when you wake up.”


End file.
